The Beast Likes Tomatoes
by FranketteMoo
Summary: Parody of Beauty and the Beast, in which Spain is the Beast and Belle is now sarcastic with a love for bursting into spontaneous song and dance. THIS STORY CONTAINS: Inside jokes, sarcasm, and Melle's crazy dad. Spain/OC
1. Chapter 1

**I feel so victorious... I have finally finished this, the first chapter of the last story in the series! If you wonder what "series" I'm talking about, check my other stories that have the words "birthday gift" in the summary. Also, if you're curius as to what the stories have in common and what makes them a series, be patient, my pets. You will find out in due time. For now, It's a secret. ;)**

**Anyway, this is a Beauty and the Beast fic. Duh. For reference: The clerk in the bookstore is Austria, and I based the dad on Julian Smith. If you haven't seen his videos on Youtube, I suggest you go watch them, because there are ample references to them. Don't worry, this is not an RPF, for those of you who are familiar with him, you will notice I changed him up a bit.**

**Enjoy!**

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a super fancy castle. Although he had a super rude little brother, the prince was fun loving, selfless, and kind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single carnation in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Slightly creeped out by her haggard appearance, the prince turned down the gift and told the old woman she creeped him out (knowing when not to say something wasn't one of his talents), but she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was an unhealthy amount of love and an astounding amount of naivety in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the (still somehow attractive) beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The carnation she had offered was truly an enchanted carnation, which would bloom until his twenty-first year. If he could learn to take things seriously, and be taken seriously in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to take some guy who got himself turned into a beast seriously?

* * *

She stepped out of the little cottage, making sure to close the door behind her. As she approached the village, she began to sing.

"Little town, it's a quiet village, every day, like the one befo- Wait, wait! Turn off the music for a second!"

**What? You love this song. You sing it in public enough.**

"Well, yeah, but first off, my voice kind of cracked on 'town'. And I thought of something."

**Oh, do tell.**

"No wonder people are singing about me being a nut, I'm singing to myself on my way to the bookstore!"

**Okay, you're right. Beauty and the Beast is stupid.**

"What? No! Take that back, you uncultured swine! Beauty and the Beast is the most beautiful story of all time!"

**I'll take it back, but only if you get on script and stop talking to me. Talking in bold takes a lot of my energy. You can start from the ending of that verse.**

"Ugh, okay." She cleared her throat and sang, "…Waking up to say…" And with that, the musical number finally began, with a few "Bonjours". But we're going to skip to the next bit of dialogue, because thanks to a certain someone, we're behind schedule.

"… To this poor provincial town-"

"Good morning, Melle!" The baker called, interrupting her.

She smiled and said, "Good morning, monsieur!" Off to the side, she muttered, "Wait, I speak French? When did that happen?"

The baker didn't hear her comment and asked, "Where you headed off to?" He lifted a basket of various bread and rolls onto the windowsill of his shop.

"The bookshop! I just finished the most wonderful story, with a beanstalk and an ogre and a-"

"Yeah, that's nice," he said, cutting her off. He leaned into the window and yelled, "Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!"

Melle shrugged and continued walking, seemingly oblivious to the people around her singing about how odd she was. Maybe she read and drew and burst into song at inappropriate times, but she was nice. Most of the time. She entered the aforementioned bookshop and was greeted by the clerk.

"Ah, Melle, it's you. What do you want?" He said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

She grinned. "I've come to return the book I borrowed," she said.

He took the book from her and placed it back in its place on the shelf. "It's about time," he said shortly.

"What are you talking about? I got it only yesterday."

"Yes, but this is a short book. You should have finished it before now."

She threw her arms up in the air. "What the poo? I'll have you know, I finished it last night, but I didn't feel like coming back."

"Your laziness is unacceptable!"

"Well, as long as we're sharing our feelings, I'd like to say that I find your accent utterly annoying," She said. Without letting him speak, she went on to say, "So, have you got anything new?" She went to the shelves that lined the walls and ran her finger along the spines of the books.

He shook his head. "Not since yesterday."

"That's alright; I'll borrow… this one!" She pulled out a thick volume with a picture of what looked to be a teenaged wizard on the cover.

"Haven't you read that one twice?" He said, clearly still offended about the comment on his accent.

She hugged the book to her chest. "Yes, but it's totally awesome! Far-off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise-!"

He cut her off, "Okay, just stop your needless blabbering. If you like it all that much, I guess you can just keep it."

Melle's eyes widened. "But sir!"

He began ushering her out the door. "I insist. Whatever keeps you out of here longer."

"Okay! THANKS EDELSTEIN," she said, giving him an awkward one-armed hug before running away, because he wasn't the type of person that appreciated her hugs. As she walked out, she excitedly opened her new book and began reading, blocking out the rest of the world. This was probably best, because there was more singing about how odd she was. **(And ****_she's _****the odd one?)** She sat down on the edge of a fountain and kept reading, while her friend Vash, the sheep herder, lead his flock past. Suddenly she found the urge to sing again, so she did, explaining to the sheep what was going on in this enthralling novel.

_"Aah… Isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part, because, you'll see…_

_Here… Is Ginny Weasly…_

_But Harry has just started to realize how much he cares really…"_

She would have said more, but Vash lead the flock away, so she didn't have an audience. One could speculate that he was jealous because the Narrator wouldn't let him sing his fancy-dancy song. She shrugged, and decided to start on the way home.

Meanwhile, not too far away, a gunshot was heard. Not too long after, a duck fell from the sky to the feet of the one who shot it. It was almost immediately scooped up by the eager young boy who was with him.

"Wow, Francis! You're the greatest hunter in the whole world!" The young, blonde-haired boy exclaimed, his thick eyebrows rising with glee. Poor kid. He didn't know it, but his brother was the prince of a neighboring kingdom, so he was too. Unfortunately, due to a careless nurse and a series of unfortunate events, he ended up in this little village, being cared for by Francis.

I repeat, poor kid.

Francis smiled smugly. "I know." He wasn't aware of the boy, Peter's, royal roots, either.

"Why, no beast alive stands a chance against you!" Peter said as he hoisted the duck over his shoulder.

"Oui. And no girl, for that matter! Honhonhon…"

Peter made a face. "But girls have cooties! That's what Vash told me, so that's why I'm not allowed near his little sister."

Francis patted the boy's head sympathetically. "Oh, how little you know! Vash is just upset over the fact that he never has any fun, that's all. Anyway, I've got my sights set on that one." He pointed to Melle, who had engaged in a conversation with someone on the corner.

"The comedian's daughter?" He asked. "But she's-"

"The most beautiful girl in town! That makes her the best! And don't I deserve the best?"

"Well, of course, I guess, but-"

Francis cut him off again and began singing, but he… erm… altered the lyrics a bit, which threw everyone else off, so… yeah, let's just skip to the next piece of dialogue, shall we?

"Hello, Melle," He said, stepping in front of her.

Without looking up, she responded, "Oh, hey, Francypants."

Francis swiftly stepped forward and took the book out of her hands, before flipping through the pages.

Melle huffed. "Francis, could you give me back my book please?"

"How can you read this, there's no pictures!"

She made another grab for the book, but he easily held it just out of her reach. Melle had always been very short. She hit about five feet at age 14 and stayed that way, much to her displeasure. "Well, some people use their imagination, or at least wait for the movie."

Francis shook his head, before tossing the book behind him, where it landed in a mud puddle. "Melle, it's time for you to get your head out of these silly books and pay attention to more important thing. Like me!" He flashed her a smile that would have likely won over most of the girls in Melle's peer group, but certainly not Melle. She bent down to get her book out of the mud while Francis kept talking. "Everyone's talking about it. It's just not right for women to so things like read, she might start getting ideas, or thinking…"

"Francis, you are positively primeval," she said, having finally gotten her book, she picked up the hem of her apron and began wiping dirt off the cover, only to find it taken from her hands once again and Francis' arm around her shoulder.

"Why, thank you, Melle!" He said, clearly not being bright enough to pick up on her sarcasm. "Now, what do you say we go down to my place, and… get to know each other better?"

She backed away, taking her book again. "Yeah, I think I'll pass. I have to get home, anyway, and help my father."

Peter, who had apparently been at Francis' side the whole time, burst into laughter. "That loon? He needs all the help he can get!"

Francis and Peter started laughing together, until Melle stopped them. "Hey, don't talk about my father that way!"

Suddenly, Francis stopped laughing and hit Peter on the head, saying, "Yeah, don't talk about her father that way!"

"My father's not crazy, he just ate a jellyfish!" She said defensively, just before very loud, very high-pitched singing could be heard from her house. She abandoned the other two (who started laughing again) and ran towards her house.

She opened the door to their little cottage, where she saw her father standing in the kitchen, singing to himself as he stirred something in a teapot.

"I'll never get naked in your show-! Oh, hi Melle!"

Melle's father, Carl, was a tall man, much taller than his daughter, with curly dark hair not unlike her own. He was handsome, but unfortunately he had yet to find a wife, due to the fact that every time he had someone over he would do things like scream about trees when he got tired. Melle's mother was both the first and last woman to be able to spend more than a few weeks with him. But after Melle was born, she finally lost it and ran off with a tater tot farmer.

She sighed. "Hi, dad. How are things?"

He grinned down into the pot, and said, "I think it's finally done. I'm so going to get first place at the fair tomorrow." He then turned to Melle and said, "I want you to drink this. I call it Kool Aid. It tastes kind of like fruit and clogged arteries."

"Ew, no, I'm not drinking that! Is it hot?"

"Maybe."

"Then why did you call it Kool Aid? I'm not thirsty, anyway."

Carl gave his daughter a pleading look. "Melle, I made this for you."

Melle scowled. "No, I'm not going to drink it."

A brief silence followed, during which a look of anger grew on his face. Finally, he yelled, "I WANT YOU TO DRINK THIS!"

"No!"

"I MADE THIS FOR YOU!"

"I'm not drinking it!"

"I DID IT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

"Ugh, fine!" Melle poured herself a cup of the steaming, sickeningly red liquid and took a tentative sip. She immediately felt herself gag a little, but on seeing the hopeful look in her father's eyes, said, "... That's not bad. You'll certainly win first place at the fair tomorrow."

Carl pumped his fist into the air. "YES." He began clearing away the teapot and the mess resulting from his experimentation as he chattered, asking his daughter how her day was, what she did, and so on.

In response, she gave the customary responses. Her day was fine, and she got a new book and sang to some sheep. But when a question along the lines of who she spent the day with came up, she sighed and propped her chin in her palm.

"No one. As long as we're on the subject, Dad, do you think I'm odd?"

He looked up at her from the small tree he had been caressing and scoffed. "You? Odd? That's a stupid question."

Melle rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess. But as long as we've been here, I haven't been able to make any friends. I just don't fit in."

"What about that one guy... Francis? He might possibly be gay, but at least he's not ugly."

"Well, if he is gay, he's done a good job of hiding it. And no, he's not that bad, but he's a total jerk, not to mention a perv. I feel so bad for his little friend, Peter."

Carl put away the tree and sat beside her. "Well, don't sweat it. This Hot Kool Aid is going to make us famous! And rich! Haha!"

She offered him a smile and patted his shoulder. "Whatever floats your boat, daddy dearest. So, what's for dinner? I thought corn sounded nice."

He looked at her like she had just slapped him in the face. "Akbar..." he uttered.

"Dad, it was a cob of corn you drew a face on! But if you're not over it, I could probably make some stew or-"

He cut her off. "I'd rather eat Randy!" He saw the puzzled expression on her face and added, "Pre-blessed Randy."

Melle blinked. Her father never ceased to confuse her. "... How about we just do leftovers?"

* * *

The next morning, bright and early, Carl left for the fair, pulling a large quantity of his drink in the wagon behind his horse, Epona. He had initially been nervous about leaving his daughter alone, but she insisted upon him going anyway. The last time she went to a fair, she had gotten heatstroke, and besides, she didn't want to be associated with Hot Kool-Aid.

Melle waved and wished him luck, waiting until she could no longer see him to go back inside and get started on the day's chores.

Little did she know, Francis had other ideas.

* * *

**So? Did you like it? If you did, or didn't, please tell me in the reviews! It really warms my heart when I get alerts for reviews and favorites and such. **

**Yes, I named the horse Epona. LEGEND OF ZELDA FTW!**

**I am tired.**

**The stories in this series will have references to each other, as you may have noticed with the hit that Peter's brother is Arthur, the prince in _Sleeping Stella._** **Be prepared for these references. If you haven't read the other three stories, I STRONGLY recommend that you do. The next thing I'll do is update _My Fair Zia, _then this one again. After all the stories are caught up to two chapters, I'll update them in the order posted. (_Sleeping Stella, Heracles and the Nymph, My Fair Zia, The Beast Likes Tomatoes, _and so on.) Please be patient with updates, school is starting soon!**

**I am in California.**

**On a final note, please review and all that good stuff! Love and hugs!**


	2. The Proposal

Carl furrowed his brow as he struggled to read his map in the dim light of his lantern. He felt he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Something about this road just didn't feel right. He had to get back on the right path, or else his dreams of mass-producing and selling Hot Kool Aid would never come true.

A sudden gust of wind blew, pulling his map away from him. "Fudge a duck," he muttered. Luckily, they came to a fork in the road, with signs showing what was in each direction. But as he neared it, he found he couldn't read it. Whoever wrote this sign must have been a foreigner. "Uh, Epona, is this Chinese or Korean?" The horse whinnied in response. Carl didn't speak horse, but if he did he would have known she had said something along the lines of _"are you kidding me? I'm a horse for Christ's sake". _Carl sighed and looked down each path. He had two options. One path was less grown over, and somehow more inviting. The other was overgrown and almost pitch black. Which path to take… The second one, obviously!

"Come one, Epona. This way," He said. She whinnied again. _"Heck no, I'm not that stupid"_.

"Epona," he said again, more firmly this time. "Come on. It's a shortcut, we'll be there by morning." Finally the horse walked slowly down the path. Carl sneezed. Wait… this couldn't be good. There was only one thing he was allergic to, and that was bats. Bats flew out of the trees and swarmed them. Epona reared back, the lantern broke, and Carl fell off, still sneezing. Epona, still freaking out, ran back down the path, towards home.

Carl said, between sneezes, "No! My Hot Kool Aid! _Achoo!_" He stood up, brushing dirt off himself. "Well, this kind of sucks. At least it can't get any worse." He heard growling from the nearby bushes. "Spoke too soon…"

Wolves emerged from the brush, their teeth bared. Carl looked desperately from side to side. This would be the perfect time for someone to swoop in and save him. Maybe even… _The Narrator!_

Ha, made you look.

Carl had no choice, he had to run. He ran in no particular direction, just trying to be faster than the pack of hungry wolves. But they were closing in on him. He could feel their breath as they snapped at his heels. He tried to run a little faster, but tripped over a tree root. He yelled as he came crashing down to the ground. _I'm going to die, I'm going to die... What about Melle? What about my Kool Aid? Especially the Kool Aid... _He tried to pull himself up, and in doing so found himself looking at none other than a huge, dark, scary-looking castle. So of course he had to go inside. He quickly went through the gate and slammed it shut, not caring that his hat fell off in the process. The wolves angrily growled, before walking away. "_Dang... Gates are our only weakness..." _

Carl felt relief wash over him as he looked up at the castle in front of him. Now it didn't look _too _bad. Gulping, he proceeded to enter the castle, cringing at the creaking from the ancient hinges.

Inside the castle, near the door, a conversation was being held between a... clock and candelabra? And they both had Italian accents? Even the Narrator is confused.

The clock seemed to be irritated. "You're such an idiot! It's been like ten years! You've been a candle this whole time! What makes you think you can make pasta now, you don't even have hands!"

The candle seemed unfazed by the clock's remarks as he peeled spaghetti off of himself. "I just thought I'd try! I know you miss pasta too, Lovino."

Lovino the clock still scowled. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't! But you're made of wax now, Feliciano! Going near boiling water is just reta-"

"Wait, Lovino! I think I just heard the door open!" Feliciano interrupted.

Lovino gave Feliciano a odd look. "Stop being stupid! The only person who's even come near the castle was that one prince! Even then he left as soon as you opened your fat mouth!"

"I h-hope it's not that prince from the neighboring kingdom looking for his brother again! He was s-scary!"

"Shut the hell up, already! No one is coming in the castle, so you can- _EEEeeeee!_" Lovino screamed and cowered behind Feliciano, who was also shaking with fear as the tip of Carl's boot peeked out from behind the door.

"Hello?" Carl called out, "Is anyone here? I thought I heard someone scream..."

Silence.

Carl tried again. "Please, my horse ran off and I'm lost. I just need a place to stay for the night."

Feliciano whispered, "Oh, Lovino! We should help him!"

"No! Besides, think about what the Boss will think!"

"Oh, you finally admitted he's your Boss!"

"Shut up!"

Carl heard them and walked over to the table they were standing on. "Hello? Who's there?" He picked up the candle and peered around the dark foyer. Feliciano tapped him on the head.

Carl turned his head to look at the candle, who proceeded to cheerily say, "Ciao!" Carl yelled in surprise and dropped him back on the table.

"Y-you just talked! But you're a..."

Lovino cut in, "Yeah, yeah, we can talk. Big surprise. So why don't you go away?"

"Woah, cool!" Carl picked up the clock and began poking at it, earning an outburst of obscenities.

Feliciano said, "Hey, you must be cold! Come on, you can come sit by the fireplace!"

Carl put Lovino back on the table and gladly followed Feliciano, who was leading him into the sitting room.

"What the hell? Are you not listening to me?" Lovino ran after them, yelling words the Narrator would rather not repeat. So let's skip ahead a bit, shall we? Carl is now seated comfortably in the yet-to-be-named Boss' chair, Feliciano is starting a fire (not a dangerous one, he already did that once this week), and Lovino is still trying to take control of the situation by cursing. This would make a lovely greeting card.

A cart that we can assume was also moving of its own accord whizzed into the room, bearing a teapot and a cup. And of course, the teapot spoke.

"Hi!" She said cheerily, before pouring some tea into the cup.

Carl replied, "Uh, hi." He was still getting used to communicating with household objects. He lifted the cup to his mouth and took a sip, before spitting it back out as the teacup burst into laughter.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hey, that tickled!"

The teapot scolded her. "Now, Cassie! You have to stop doing that! This guy just lost his horse and he's lost, give him a break!"

The cup, Cassie, stifled her laughter a bit and tried to give Carl a sympathetic look.

"Sorry about her, she always acts like this," the teapot said, before turning back to the cup. "Cassie! You can't be so loud! What if the Boss-"

A low, growling noise that sounded a little bit like a yawn was heard.

"-wakes up."

All of the enchanted objects dashed into the shadows as heavy footsteps made their way towards a now trembling Carl. Finally, the beast stepped into the light.

Maybe it was the dim lighting. Maybe it was all the Kool Aid fumes he had inhaled. But to Carl, this was certainly the most terrifying this he had ever seen in all his existence.

"AAAAAAH!" He yelled, shielding his eyes.

The beast spoke in a low, rumbling, accented voice. "Oh wow, are you really a guest, mister?"

"IT SPEAKS!"

"I guess you are one! Sorry, it's been a long time. Let me touch your back," the beast said, reaching out and patting Carl on the back.

"EEEE! IT TOUCHED ME!" Carl screamed and thrashed around as though the beast's hand were on fire.

"You know, usually I would appreciate having someone over, but you woke me up from my nap. And I don't really like being woken up."

Carl continued to thrash. "JUST EAT ME ALREADY! BUT I'M WARNING YOU, I PROBABLY TASTE LIKE RANDY!"

The beast raised a furry eyebrow. "Amigo, I think you took a wrong turn on the way to the asylum. And you're still being loud, I just woke up. Do you think you could-"

"COVER MYSELF IN MAYONNAISE SO I TASTE A LITTLE BETTER?"

"Actually, I'm not really a fan of mayonnaise."

"WELL, IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO EAT ME, JUST LOCK ME UP OR SOMETHING!"

The beast shrugged. "If that's what you want. I think it's only fair, anyway, considering you woke me up."

"FINE! JUST TAKE ME AWAY ALREADY!"

"Okay, then." The beast sighed, before leading Carl off to an old cell. Clearly, this guy wasn't going to be the one to take him seriously.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the village, Francis took a final look over the wedding preparations. He had, of course, invited everyone in town. The all sat around, chatting and waiting for the wedding to begin. Everyone seemed to be present. Vash had even brought his sheep. (However, despite his sister's cheeriness, he himself looked very surly, as usual. It was rumored that he also kind of had a thing for Melle. Too bad for him.) Nodding to himself, he turned to Peter.

"Now, Peter, you remember what to do when I come out with her?"

Peter nodded. "Yes! I set the band going!"

Francis smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "That's right! Now, what do you do during the wedding?"

"I have a good time but stay out of the way!" He said, with an ever faithful tone. I hate to sound redundant, but poor kid. "I think I might try to dance with Lili..." He said, before waving at the girl, earning a scowl from her brother.

"Good boy! Women are always the answer!" Francis turned to face the crowd and said, "Thank you for coming to my wedding! I guess I should go propose!" The crowd laughed. With the exception of Vash.

Melle, inside her house, had no idea what was going on. So, as usual, she alternated between her new book and her sketch pad, zoning out. She snapped back to reality when she heard a knock on her door. She stood and looked through the peephole, groaning when she saw Francis on her doorstep. She turned the knob and opened the door, stepping back as Francis invited himself in.

"Hello, Melle! Guess what today is?"

"The day you get out of my house?"

He laughed. "No, silly! This is the day your dreams come true!"

Melle rolled her eyes. "I highly doubt that. Unless you happen to have a knife and some rope I can tie you to a barge with."

He sat down and propped his feet up on the table. "Non! Let me enlighten you. Imagine a cute little cottage in the woods. Children playing with the dogs while their mommy and daddy make them a new sibling! Guess who that mommy is?"

Melle had a sickening feeling she knew who it was. "Who...?"

Francis stood and threw his arm around her shoulders, smiling. "You, Melle! Onhonhonhon!"

She ran away from him while he tried to embrace her. "Francis, as, um, _nice _as that sounds, I'm going to have to pass up on that offer. I'm..." She paused, thinking of an escape. He had her pinned against the door now. She placed a hand on the knob and leaned away from him. "...Just not good enough!" She opened the door and quickly went to one side, avoiding Francis as he fell out of the house. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

Francis yelled as he landed right in a mud puddle, conveniently placed right outside Melle's door. Peter started the band, while everyone else laughed. Even Vash smirked a bit. Francis stood up and angrily crammed his hands in his pockets, before storming away from the humiliation, trailed by Peter.

"Big brother?" Lili asked.

"Hm?" Vash looked down at his sister.

"What just happened? Why is Mr. Francis so angry?"

Vash replied, "He approached a woman without her consent. Which can only end in disaster. Which is why _I'd _never do a thing like tha- Wait, Lili, what is that?"

Lili grinned and lightly touched the flower in her hair he had been referring to. "Isn't it pretty? Peter gave it to me."

"What? No, Lili! You can't let boys get near you! Or you will get pregnant. And die!"

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'll explain when you're older, let's go." And so, the sheep herder lead his flock and his sister away from the wedding.

* * *

An hour or two later, Melle poked her head out of her back door. "Is he gone?" She asked her chicken, who clucked in response. "Can you imagine? He asked me to marry him! Me! The wife of that boarish, brainless-!" And then, she burst into song. But the Narrator is getting tired of writing out entire musical numbers. So we're going to skip to the next verse.

"... And for once, it might be grand... To have someone, understand... I want so much more than they've got planned..." A loud, whinnying noise interrupted her song. She looked up to see none other than Epona, galloping towards her. She still had the wagon full of Kool Aid, but Carl was no where to be seen.

"Epona! What's going on? Where's Dad?" Her thoughts immediately jumped to the worst, she began unhitching the wagon. "Come on, Epona, you have to take me to him!" She grabbed her cloak and seated herself on her horse. And with that, she set off to find her father.

* * *

**Ah, Chapter 2 is up! Now I can update the series in an orderly fashion. So the next story that will be updated will be _Sleeping Stella. _**

**Also, it was brought to my attention how close this to the actual script. I already explained this in the author's note at the end of _My Fair Zia, _Chapter 2, but if you're not reading it (LIKE YOU SHOULD BE), I'll go over it again. I ****involuntarily memorize Disney movies. Seriously. I have most of Beauty and the Beast known by heart. You can ask anyone. So I'm not trying to steal Disney's story, I'm just trying to fulfill my romantic wishes via Fanfic.**

**That's all I really have to say! Please review, and stay tuned! Love and hugs!**


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